The Lives We Save
by ChibiJaime
Summary: Set directly post Garrus's recruitment mission in ME2. The in-between, from Garrus's extraction from Omega to the moment before his awakening. Aislynn Shepard is a practical woman, but she never realized how much old friends meant until now...


So far, the voyage had been relatively quiet. Doctor Chakwas was surprised, to be honest. She hadn't expected things to be so calm at first. She knew Commander Aislynn Shepard's propensity toward getting into the worst of anything right off the bat, and had been expecting to see more injuries fairly early-on.

She smiled to herself. This was a pleasant deviation from the norm. If the start of this voyage was any indication, perhaps things would turn out even better than the last time. She had just started to settle in to going over her files, acclimating herself once again to the myriad alien species she would be dealing with, when Joker's voice over the medical wing's intercomm caught her attention. The young man sounded unpleasantly grim.

"Doctor Chakwas, the commander's ordering your presence in the shuttle bay. There's been a shoot-out... and she says Garrus was involved. She says to bring sedatives, painkillers, a stretcher, and a /lot/ of medi-gel."

That caught the woman's attention immediately. Garrus Vakarian had been one of their teammates on the previous mission. He was a kind-hearted, if not somewhat naive and idealistic, young turian C-Sec officer. With grand ambitions, Shepard had schooled him gently and done her best to set him onto a better path before he got himself hurt. She knew the young turian had been a sniper... a shoot-out /would/ be a likely place to find him.

Frowning, she grabbed one of the larger emergency kits and a stretcher, jogging down toward the level below. Jacob met her halfway. "What's the situation, Jacob?"

"Turian sniper got himself shot to hell. I think Shepard knows him... she hasn't left his side. But he's in a lot of pain and delirious, and he's lost a lot of blood. I don't think he's gonna make it, but Shepard ain't givin' up on him."

Doctor Chakwas frowned a little, immediately quickening her pace. "She wouldn't, if Garrus were involved. They had a very close friendship before."

She said nothing else as she continued, all but skidding to a stop outside the shuttle's open door. Miranda was standing outside, her arms crossed over her abdomen, pacing as she occasionally glanced inside. "Doctor. I was wondering when you would get here. We found Archangel, but he's... somewhat worse for wear. Think you could do something?"

It was all the older woman could do not to scowl. Lawson was a decent enough soldier, but the woman could be positively grating even at the best of times. Instead, she bit her tongue and took a deep breath. "That's what I was planning on."

The first thing the doctor noticed when she stepped into the shuttle was the thick, unpleasant smell that hung in the air. Unlike human blood, turian blood lacked that coppery tang, carrying with it a pungent, almost sweet odor. To compound the issue, the floor was littered with a number of discarded towels, most of them soaked to dripping with dark blue. Jacob hadn't been kidding when he said the sniper had been badly injured.

One of the emergency cots was taken up by the long form of the former C-Sec agent now, his head laying on its side in Shepard's lap as the dark-haired woman did her best to soothe him. He was snarling lowly, a guttural sound from somewhere deep in his throat, though it broke off occasionally as he gasped and tried to draw in desperate gulps of air. The right side of his armor was scorched and punched clean through in places, and even the color of his armor couldn't hide the thick blue liquid staining it.

"My God, Shepard," Chakwas breathed, leaving the stretcher behind as she rushed to the pair. "What in the world happened to him?"

Shepard's tone was low and growling, though she kept one hand pressed to the sweep of fringe arching back from Garrus's face. His right jaw was badly damaged and bleeding as profusely as the wounds on his body, the mandible nearly ripped off. "Those damn mercenaries took a gunship to him," she muttered. "We got him back as quickly as we could."

Doctor Chakwas frowned, grabbing several applications of medi-gel from her kit. "Any longer of a wait and I'd have been meeting you with a body bag. The fact that he's still alive right now is a testament to how stubborn he is. I can at least slow the bleeding... but I'll need to operate as soon as possible. Help me get his armor off. At least above the waist."

It was a tedious process. Despite constant application of painkiller and medi-gel where they could reach, Garrus was in a considerable amount of pain, literally hissing when they touched a certain injury or moved him a certain way. Moving him to the stretcher was no less difficult, and as they started back toward the medical wing, Shepard felt a cool, rough hand grip her arm. Looking down, she found Garrus looking up at her. His working mandible was vibrating rapidly, creating a strange humming sound. The injured one was twitching occasionally, causing him to release a tight groan of pain. It must've been hell to fight the sedatives as hard as he was.

His eyes shut tightly again and he weakly turned his head away, writhing on the stretcher.

"Garrus, you need to lay still. Doctor Chakwas can't work on you if you keep writhing around like that." She straightened when he snapped his face toward her, pale eyes wild. The look was almost predatory, and it sent a shiver clean down her spine. "Please."

The turian gave another groan after that, his mandibles once more starting the violent, sharp vibration. He gasped as the injured one sent pain coursing through his body and finally opened his mouth to speak. "Shepard." His voice was hoarse... not at all the cocky, self-assured Garrus she remembered so fondly. "Did we... did we get the sons of bitches?"

Though she didn't want to encourage him to speak, she knew she had to answer. Gently working her wrist free to take his hand in hers, she gave a faint nod. "We got 'em, Garrus. You don't have to worry about that anymore. So you just focus on recovery. You need to let the doctor work on you."

He gasped in again, this time as a response to being moved from the stretcher to the bed in the medical wing. His eyes squeezed shut, his breathing raspy and harsh as he gripped her hand tightly. "Can't sleep now. Can't. I'm not afraid of dying... but... but dying like this? After... after all we've been through..."

Immediately, the commander's resolve strengthened and she reached over to touch his uninjured cheek. It was an unprecedented move, but it drew his attention to her and his mandibles finally stopped that strange, clattering vibration as a result. "You look at me, Garrus Vakarian. You look at me and you _listen_. You're not dying here. Let Doctor Chakwas work on you. You need to let her treat your injuries, so we can get right back up and dive into hell all over again. Just like old times, right?"

There was a pause, and for a moment, the woman's heart tightened. But then, the turian gave a weak, gasping laugh, his eyes falling closed as he squeezed her hand tightly, almost as if he was afraid to let go. "You always... always have a way... of making the impossible seem possible, Shepard..." He swallowed, body giving a reflexive jerk. "Felt like I could take on the world... with you around..." Opening his eyes, he focused on her again, and for a moment, she almost swore she could see a smile on that keen raptor-like face. "I'll do my best... to live. For you, Commander."

His eyes finally drifted shut after that, his grip loosening on her hand. And though she could safely step back and let the good doctor work, she didn't want to leave just yet, glancing at Doctor Chakwas. The woman gazed at the silent turian, finally under the influence of the sedatives he'd so desperately been fighting off. "I'll begin the surgery right away. I'm not certain we'll be able to save him, Commander, but I think you strengthened his resolve, if nothing else. I'll do my best for him."

"I know you will, Doctor," Shepard finally commented, withdrawing her hand from Garrus's face and stepping back. "There's very few people I would trust with my life in this world. Garrus is one of those people, and I know you'll do whatever it takes to help him."

Doctor Chakwas nodded faintly. "He probably won't even remember any of this. He was so heavily drugged that it's incredible he was even awake." She stepped to a sterilization chamber near where she was standing. "I'll have to ask you to step out of the room while I operate, Commander, though I apologize. I need to make certain the environment is safe enough for me to do this. He's as prone to infection as any organic."

Tense, Shepard nodded, moving out of the room, glancing down at herself. Her own armor was stained with the turian's blood, and she felt a sick feeling rise in her stomach. Stalking toward her quarters to change out of her armor, she tried to ignore it. They had survived fighting Sovereign together. He had been right there at the breaking point when the world could have fallen apart all around them, only suffering some snapped scales and a bad headache for his trouble. Even Wrex had commended his staying power. This wouldn't kill him either.

Not that she had to like it. Scowling, she flung one of her shoulder guards as hard as she could against the opposite wall, watching as it harmlessly bounced off and landed on her bed, ignoring EDI's chime that she should try to avoid damaging the ship. Garrus was forefront in her mind, but he had to live.

He had to.

It was a belief she held firmly in her head as the next several days passed, hits and misses filtering in as Doctor Chakwas spent sleepless nights trying to save Garrus's life. She went about her business, occasionally checking in with the salarian doctor Mordin Solus, who had taken to helping Doctor Chakwas. He was normally very chatty, but his expression grew unpleasantly serious whenever she spoke about Garrus to him.

The look was not reassuring.

She had just finished taking a shower that had not been nearly as relaxing as she'd hoped when the alert chimed that Jacob wanted to see her in the briefing room. Sighing, the dark-haired woman squared her shoulders and pulled on her casual gear, expression as neutral as she could manage. His tone had been very uncertain. Garrus was finally stable... and the ultimate say on his condition had been offered.

For better or for worse, she had to see this through to the end.


End file.
